If there’s one thing emotionally unavailable party-princess, Tayla Watkins knows, it’s clothes. Kids? Not so much. But when her foster brother leaves her with a deathbed wish regarding the son he never had a chance to meet, she can’t refuse.

Armed with a Nannying for Dummies guidebook, all Tayla needs is three weeks at the mansion where the little boy lives to suss out the situation, confirm his well-being then leave without anyone ever knowing who she really is. Totally doable, except she chooses the wrong bed on her first night and faces off with the sexy uncle intent on knocking her off her six-inch heels.

When billionaire adventurist, Jared Miller, discovers his nephew’s sixty-year-old nanny has been replaced with a sparsely clad beauty, his trusted instincts fly off the charts, and so does his intrigue-meter. The glamorous nanny has as many secrets as she does shoes, and he’s determined to shadow her every move to uncover them all.

Excerpt

“I’m the new nanny. Temporary nanny. My name is Tayla Watkins.”

He rubbed his jaw. His silence made her nervous, his scrutiny of her face, anxious. But when his gaze flicked down her body, heat soaked her cheeks. Could he see right through her nightie? The curve of her breasts, her nipples, the absence of her panties because she’d been too tired to put on a pair.

The light chiffon hid nothing. Yet a deep-rooted defiance forced her to stand there, face him head-on as opposed to hiding her partial nakedness behind the curtains while getting all bent out of shape at his daring inspection.

She did the next best thing. With casual pretense, she picked a decorative cushion off the floor and hugged it to her body. The longish rectangle shape, edged with gold tassels, covered her private bits.

“I liked Mrs. D better,” he said, fingering the cut across his forehead oozing a bit with blood. “What happened to her? Is she okay?”

“Mrs. Davis had scheduled a medical procedure and hired me to fill in for her.” She needed to shorten the amount of time she spent in his company with nothing but a cushion separating him from her near-nakedness. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong…foot.” When really, the word ‘bed’ came to mind. “And I’m sorry about throwing the lamp at you.” She gestured toward his head. “I thought you were dead. Then you moved. I’ll get you something for it.” Without giving him her back and with as much grace as she could muster, she walked the small space sideways back toward the open door.

“No, don’t bother. I need to get a lot of sleep, preferably on that bed, alone, so if you don’t mind, say good-night.” His succinct dismissal irked her, but his large hand, curling over her hip then to the small of her back, forcing her to face forward so he could usher her out, stung her nerves with raw heat. “You know, Ms. Nanny, you did much better in my dreams.”

Vivien Paige has been eagerly consuming romance novels since her early teens. Strong, dark alpha heroes. Cute, feisty heroines. Combustible, emotional roller-coaster rides to a splendid happy ever after. Perfect! That’s what makes her such an awesome wife…well depending on who you ask 🙂 Now she writes her own romance novels, too.